


When the day met the night

by orphan_account



Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: AU, Brendon breaks up with Dallon, Brendon isn't, Brendon works in a music store, M/M, Ryan is famous, Ryan meets Brendon after he's broken up with Dallon, Ryden, Rydon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 04:02:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4945960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brendon is a assistant in a music store with an amazing singing voice, who's just broken up with his long term boyfriend - Dallon.</p><p>Ryan is an infamous musician, whose band has just broken up who happens to buy a guitar from the music store Brendon works in.</p><p>They strike up an unlikely friendship when Ryan notices Brendon's singing, and things escalate from there.</p><p>But for Brendon and Ryan things aren't always going to be easy, because things never seem to go as planned, do they....?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter one

Chapter one

* * *

 

Brendon Urie hurried down the street, feet splashing into newly formed puddles as he ran. It was a cold, dreary November morning and he was already late for work... on the first day at his new job.

He did have a legitimate excuse though, which he hoped would get him off the hook; he'd split up with his boyfriend- well now ex-boyfriend, Dallon the day previously. Dallon had been seeing a woman behind Brendon's back, and he'd found out when he answered the phone for him; with Dallon's girlfriend on the other end. Brendon had stood Dallon up and forced him to leave their shared house. They'd been going out for 2 years as well, and living together for 6 months. Brendon had even been thinking about marriage, but now that was out the window, along with Brendon’s heart.

He couldn't believe that this had happened. They were going so well... well at least Brendon thought they were going well, unbeknownst to Dallon's cheating. He felt as though his whole world had come crashing down on him in the space of 24 hours. It was unbelievable.

Brendon ran faster to his work, he couldn't afford to be later than he already was; although he was unable to run fast due to a lack of sleep he had that night, being too busy crying, listening to depressing music on a loop and plotting revenge (which Brendon knew wasn't healthy but he didn't really give a damn, to put it bluntly) and the little sleep he had got was plagued with nightmares about Dallon (which to be honest had come true).

Brendon really hoped his new managers would let him off with being late this one time (even though it was his first day of working at this shop), he really did.

When he arrived outside the music shop he worked in (Tunes music shop, which was a cliché in itself) it was already 10 minutes past 9; and his shift started at 9.

Brendon groaned before composing himself and entering, a bell overhead ringing loudly above him, announcing his entrance to the whole shop. Guitars and Basses lined the walls, with bookshelves of CDs and records. There were various drums, keyboards and other instruments towards the back of the shop, and it was essentially any musician's paradise, except it was probably going to be Brendon's new hell.

Brendon suddenly became rather self conscious as his new manager, Mr Jones, came out, looking accusingly at him.

Mr Jones was a stout man in his early 50s, who wore the yellow polo shirt that said "Tunes" in a distasteful loopy font with a little cartoon guitar which employees were required to wear at all times.

"Mr Jones, I can explain..." Brendon began.

"It’s your first day of work, and you're 10 minutes late?!?! Do you want to get fired before you even start working here? How do you think you can explain yourself?!"

"I... uh..." Brendon said, struggling for the right words to say. "I... I had a bad breakup yesterday and I hardly slept last night, which led me to oversleep.."

"All right," Mr Jones said.

All right? That wasn't what Brendon was expecting him to say. Maybe “you’re fired” or “get out of my shop” but that certainly not that.

"You're off the hook, just this once. But don't let it happen again, otherwise it’s on your record."

"Yes, sir," Brendon said, standing straighter. “I promise it won’t happen again.”

"All right then, get to work," Mr Jones said, handing him a identical yellow polo shirt to his and a name badge with Brendon’s name (supposedly) written in comic sans.

Brendon nodded vigorously and took the garment from his manager's hands and went into the back to change.

He hung his coat up on one of the hooks for the employee's stuff. Brendon even had his own hook, with his name on a sticker above it (which was misspelt Brendan Urie but Brendon couldn't complain, nobody would see it at least). He couldn't admit it, but it made him feel just a little proud when he saw it.

The shirt was around 2 sizes too big for him and the yellow was a blinding shade of yellow, to rival the colour of a banana or the sun but as he pinned the name to his chest it made him feel a sense of achievement. This was, embarrassingly, the first proper job Brendon had had in a year.

He hoped he got paid sufficiently.

Brendon looked proudly at the name tag, which to his dismay read "Brendan". They'd misspelt his name. Again. Brendon hoped he could get a new name tag.

His day had gotten off to bad start, but maybe this job would be good for him, maybe it would help him forget about Dallon.. well he hoped so anyway.

 

* * *

 

 

The day hadn't been as bad as the morning for Brendon. He'd had an alright morning, just putting through people's One Direction CD purchases and helping beginner guitar players pick out a first guitar, although he did continuously get slightly pissed off when people called him "Brendan" but let it pass, because he couldn't be bothered correcting everyone for the 20th time that day, and besides, it wasn't like there was that much of a difference anyway.

He'd met his friend Spencer in a nearby cafe on his lunch break and moaned about his breakup and how much of an asshole Dallon had been while drinking strong coffee to keep him awake (so he didn't fall asleep on the guitars and be fined $100,000,00; which was probably more than it actually would be but he still definitely couldn't afford it.). Spencer had just agreed with all his words and nodded as he ate his sandwich.

"Just forget about him," Spencer had said. "He was no good for you anyway."

Brendon had nodded and was about to go on another 15 minute rant about Dallon's stupidity. It had got very wearing for Spencer; but Brendon didn’t really care.

After around an hour of ranting, Brendon returned to his job and it was now 3:00pm and he was standing behind the counter singing some nameless song (which he'd probably made up to be honest), thinking about how much his life sucked and counting the money in the cash register.

"You're a good singer, y'know," a voice said.

"Huh... what?" Brendon mumbled, looking up to see a tallish man around his age with brown hair and an expectant look on his face. He held a rather expensive looking guitar in his hands which he placed on the counter with care. Brendon couldn't help but admit the man was quite attractive.

"Oh, uh sorry, I wasn't paying attention there," Brendon said.

The man across the counter tilted his head and gave him a sideways look. "Do you sing?"

"What?" Brendon looked confused.

"Do you sing?" the man repeated. "Professionally I mean. Like in a band or anything?"

Brendon shook his head.

"Uh.... no. I’m not singer," he laughed nervously.

"You should, y'know. You're very good at it."

"Oh... uh thanks," Brendon said awkwardly. Moments of awkward silence passed and Brendon couldn't help but feel a blush creep onto his cheeks.

"So, can I get this guitar?" the man said, motioning to the guitar that lay on the counter; which Brendon had since forgotten about.

"Uh, yeah, of course," Brendon said, beeping the tag and typing in the price, he then also beeped the case that the man was also buying. "That'll be 5,060 dollars please," he said, handing the guitar back to the man.

He produced the exact amount in cash, and Brendon wondered where and how he acquired that much money. Maybe he was rich and famous or something and Brendon was just too stupid to recognize him.

He printed his receipt and handed it to him.

"Thanks," the man said, taking the newly bought guitar and putting it into its case. He turned to leave.

"See you around, Brendan," he said.

"It’s BrenDON," Brendon muttered.

The man was almost the door when Brendon called after him, "Wait! I didn't catch your name!"

It was stupid of Brendon, to ask this rich (well at least he assumed he was, but don't judge a book by its cover and all that stuff) guitar owner's name, but he did so anyway, if he knew Brendon's name (well, almost), he should at least know his as well.

The man turned. "It's Ryan," he said. "Ryan Ross."

And with that, he turned and left, Brendon staring at him walking away down the pavement through the window in awe.

Maybe this job wouldn't be as bad as Brendon assumed it would be if Ryan came back... but that was if he did..

* * *

 

 


	2. Chapter two

Chapter two  
Nothing interesting had happened to Brendon at work since the day he met Ryan Ross (if that could be counted as interesting).  
To be honest the most exciting event had happened on Wednesday when he'd got a new name tag after telling his manager that it had been spelt wrongly. Mr Jones handed Brendon a new one and told him it was the last time that he would get it replaced, and Brendon nodded and took it in his hands. He squinted at the badge, printed on plain white paper in an extremely distasteful shade of pink comic sans. It read “Brenden”.  
Brendon had groaned loudly, the whole shop probably hearing him. Why couldn’t anyone ever spell his name right?  
He'd sighed again, put the name tag on his shirt and got on with his work, stuck with the wrong name badge for eternity (or at least until he could get himself a new one).  
On Friday he'd been anxiously anticipating the weekend and selling yet more One Direction CDs to 12- year-olds. That was just about all he did in this job.  
But it was now Saturday, and Brendon and Spencer sat on the couch in Brendon's living room eating pizza and watching some cheesy movie that neither of them really cared about in the slightest.   
"So....." Spencer began, trying to start a conversation.  
"So?" Brendon said muffled, due to his mouth being full of pizza.  
"Anything interesting been happening at work this week?" Spencer asked.  
Brendon swallowed his mouthful. "Nah, not really. They misspelt my name... twice."  
Spencer gave a short laugh. "People always do that to you."  
"Yeah, they do, and it's not funny, Spencer," Brendon said indignantly.  
"Whatever," Spencer said, taking a slice of the pizza.  
"Well, there was this one thing..." Brendon started.  
"What was that?" Spencer asked, mouth half full with food.  
"This guy.... came into buy a guitar."  
"A guy came into buy a guitar?" Spencer repeated. "Isn't that a very normal occurrence in a music shop?!"  
"Well... yeah it is," Brendon said, staring at the pizza box. "But there was something about him that... I don't know.."  
"Aw, does little Brenny have a crush?" Spencer laughed.  
"Shut up! No I don't!" Brendon said. "He was just interesting, that's all. And anyways, I'm still getting over Dallon, it’s not even been a week."  
Spencer raised his eyebrows."Sure... so did you get a name?"  
"Yeah," Brendon responded, quite proudly.  
"And?"  
"And his name is Ryan."  
"Wait, Ryan?" Spencer inquired.  
"Yeah..." Brendon said looking confused.  
"Did you get a last name?"  
Brendon nodded. "Yeah. His name's Ryan Ross."  
Spencer sighed. "Oh god, Brendon..."  
Brendon looked confused. "What?"  
"You can't not know who Ryan Ross is," Spencer replied.  
"Uh, yeah, I do. He's the man who bought a guitar from the shop I work in."  
"No, Brendon, he's like infamous in this city's music scene," Spencer replied.  
"Oh," Brendon said 'That must be where he got all that money,’ he thought. Trust Brendon to want to be friends with a cool local celebrity. Ryan would probably never even look at him again, let alone talk to him or be his friend. Ryan was famous. Brendon was a nobody. He sighed and put his head in his hands.  
"Yeah," Spencer continued. "He was in this band called 'the Young Veins'. Their album 'Take a vacation' has sold thousands of copies."  
That name rung a bell with Brendon. Maybe he'd heard of it somewhere. No, actually he'd seen it in the CD section on Tuesday while sorting them out and thought that he should give it a listen when he had the time. That had been Ryan's music.  
"Yeah, and they broke up last year, due to all the other members leaving Ryan and guitarist Jon Walker," Spencer said.  
"Oh," Brendon said again.  
"I can't believe you don't know who Ryan Ross is," Spencer said. "Like, everyone knows who he is."  
That must've been why Ryan had been giving Brendon that expectant look; he must've been expecting Brendon to recognise him.  
"You're saying all this like you know him," Brendon said, looking Spencer in the eyes.  
"I do," Spencer said, a tinge of hurt in his tone. Brendon looked confused. "We went to school together, we were best friends, inseparable in fact. He was like a brother to me, y'know. We were in a band together too, with this guy Brent Wilson. It never took off though, we could never find a guitarist."  
Brendon was taken aback. So, this guy, Ryan that he'd seen once in the music store he worked in was not only a local celebrity, but Spencer's best friend from school? Small world.  
"What happened?" Brendon asked. "I mean, you obviously don't talk any  
more."   
"Life," Spencer said, a slight anguished expression appearing on his face. "We drifted apart towards our last year of High School. Ryan met Jon and they started the Young Veins. He obviously didn't have any time for me after they got more popular. We haven't spoken in nearly six years."  
"Oh," Brendon said again. "That sucks."

-

Brendon slept for most of Sunday (trying to forget that it had been a week since his breakup with Dallon) and was soon back at work on Monday (for once he hadn't been late, but he needed a new alarm clock to prevent it happening again), his name-tag still saying "Brenden" (he really needed to sort that out - he was sick of people calling him the wrong name.), sorting out CDs with the other new recruit at Tunes, a man named Patrick. Brendon groaned as he put yet another Justin Bieber CD onto the shelf, not really caring if it went into its correct place. It was times like these that he especially liked his job (but at least he had a job, he told himself.). The next CD he took out the box caught his attention, though. It was 'Take a vacation!' by the Young Veins. Ryan's band. Brendon found himself staring at the track list for a good five minutes.  
"Is it true that Ryan Ross was in here last Monday?" Patrick asked him, turning Brendon' attention away from the CD, which he placed on the shelf. Patrick was shorter than Brendon and had dark blondish hair and wore glasses and a fedora.  
"Uh, yeah," Brendon answered.  
"And you sold him a guitar?" Patrick inquired.  
"Yeah..."  
"Oh, god. You're so lucky. I'd give anything to meet Ryan Ross. He's my favourite musician. And I heard he knows Pete Wentz."  
Brendon had no idea who 'Pete Wentz' was but he decided not to ask.  
"Well maybe he'll come in when you're working next time," Brendon smiled.  
"Hope so," Patrick replied, returning Brendon's smile.  
They stocked shelves for another 15 minutes in silence, before Brendon asked out of the blue,  
"Do you know how much alarm clocks cost nowadays?"  
Patrick looked confused. "Uh, no?"  
"Oh," Brendon said. "Cause I need a new one, as mine's always breaking, hence me being late all the time and I need to know if they're, y'know, in my price range."  
"I don't know sorry," Patrick said, placing a Taylor Swift album on the shelf.  
"No worries," Brendon replied, and turned his attention to the CDs.

-

It was 4:40pm now, and Brendon had been stocking shelves with Patrick (who was now away in the back doing something to do with boxes) for most of the day. Brendon was now on counter-duty, which was only slightly less boring than the endless shelf stocking he'd been doing (if he saw another One Direction CD he would jump off the tallest building, no joke). Brendon was just about to take the money out of the cash register for the day, because it was almost closing time and it wasn't very likely that another customer would come in at this time, and besides, it hadn't been a very busy day for them, hence the shelf stacking, when the bell above the door rang, notifying Brendon that a new customer had entered the shop. He looked up from the cash register to see a familiar man with brown hair, smiling at Brendon.  
Oh god. It was Ryan Ross.  
Brendon nervously returned his smile, watching Ryan go over to the CD section that Brendon had been stocking all day and begin to browse.  
Brendon should've probably got Patrick, because he knew how eager he was to meet Ryan and get him autograph or something but something kept Brendon's feet glued to the ground. He was frozen for some reason.  
Ryan easily found the CD he was looking for took it over to the counter.  
Brendon raised his eyebrows when he saw what Ryan was about to purchase.  
"You're buying your own CD? Don't you already have a copy, or thousands, if it's yours?" he inquired.  
"I see you've finally worked out who I am," Ryan remarked, putting the CD on the counter.  
"Yeah..." Brendon said, beeping the CD and putting in the price. "It took a while, but I figured it out."  
"I was surprised when you initially didn't recognise me," Ryan said. "Usually I get recognised by almost everyone in this City. Especially in music shops like this one. And yeah, I did have a copy, but my cat scratched it and now it's unplayable. It’s a pity, cause I miss listening to my own voice."  
Brendon wasn't sure if Ryan was kidding at the last part. He hoped he was.  
Brendon laughed. "Well I'm sorry for not recognising you. That'll be $10.99, please."  
Ryan jumped, as if coming out of a daze. "Yeah, sorry, here you go," he said, handing Brendon the money, who put it into the cash register and printed the receipt.  
Brendon wasn't sure what possessed him to do his next action; he wrote his phone number down on the receipt. It was a stupid idea, a local celebrity like Ryan would never text him, but still, he could hope.  
Brendon put the CD and receipt in a paper bag and handed them to Ryan. "Thanks for shopping at Tunes. Come back again soon," he said, memorised from the workers' manual.  
"Don't worry," Ryan said. "I'll be back."  
Without another word, Ryan left the shop, closing the door behind him, leaving Brendon standing there in slight shock.  
He hoped Ryan would text him, because Ryan was the only one who could take Brendon's mind off his breakup with Dallon.  
Maybe this could be the beginning of a friendship. At least Brendon hoped so again. That's all he could do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU FOR YOU COMMENTS!!! And sorry for not updating sooner, I've been super busy, and I have around 6 other chapters of this written that I really must upload.


	3. Chapter three

Chapter three  
The next day was positively uneventful for Brendon. He got into work late (again - and he still hadn't bought a new alarm clock), stocked yet more shelves with Patrick, who had grilled him about his meeting with Ryan the day before, which he'd told in full (except maybe for the part where Brendon had given Ryan his number, he still regretted that greatly), and then he'd had his lunch break, which he'd spent eating a limp cheese sandwich from the corner shop over the road from Tunes on a rickety bench under a old looking tree, and then he'd spent the latter part of the afternoon on counter duty again, and then spent his break playing all the instruments in the back room (which nobody must know about, especially not his co-workers) and the rest of the afternoon selling a ukulele to a 10 year old and her mother and then aligning all the instruments, which kept moving for some reason (it was probably ghosts). He was now on his way home, walking along a side-street not far from his house. But then it happened; Brendon had borrowed (borrowed, most certainly not stolen, although he hadn't technically asked, but nobody would notice, surely) the Young Veins album 'Take a vacation!' to listen to at home, because he was curious to hear what Ryan's music sounded like, but then, all of a sudden, Brendon's phone buzzed in his back pocket; which he thought nothing of, he got texts quite a lot. It was probably Spencer telling him he'd left his jacket at Brendon's house from when he’d come over on Saturday night and that he wanted it back, or his Mother sending him a long text to check up on him after hearing about his breakup with Dallon, but Brendon would phone her after he'd had something to eat.  
But Brendon took his phone out of his pocket and check to see who/what it was, and it wasn't at all what he was expecting. It was a text from an unknown number. Brendon's brow furrowed as he tapped on the text message. It was not what Brendon expected at all, because... the text was from Ryan Ross.  
"Jesus christ...." Brendon whispered, stopping still in the middle of the pavement to read it.  
'Hi Brendan/Brenden its Ryan here. How're you? I saw you gave me your number, do you wanna meet up sometime for a coffee or something?'  
Oh my god. Ryan Ross had texted him. 'Holy crap, holy crap, holy SHIT!' Brendon thought. He started walking again and turned down onto the street he lived on. He tapped the "reply" icon and tried to think of a good thing to say. He thought hard about what he could reply with, but nothing came to mind.  
"Fuck," Brendon mumbled as he collided face-first with a lamppost. He rubbed his nose. Great. He would have a nice bruise there at work tomorrow. Who knows how he'd explain that one to Mr Jones.  
"Oh yeah, I just got a text from Ryan Ross who I gave my number to on Monday and I was trying to think of a reply so I accidentally walked into a lamppost," he could say to him. That was definitely a not a good idea.  
Brendon arrived back at his house, and walked up the path and fumbled with the key in the lock. He finally managed to unlock his door and stumbled into his house, staring at his phone again. He walked into his living room and sat down on the sofa, ignoring the empty Pizza boxes that lay there from that Saturday night with Spencer.  
Brendon thought hard for a moment before thinking of the perfect text to reply to Ryan with.  
'Hey, Ryan. I'm fine, how about you? My name's actually spelt BrendOn... it's just that my work keeps messing up my name-tag. I wasn't expecting you to text that soon, but it's all fine. And, yeah, it would be nice to meet up sometime. I'm free Saturday and Sunday.' Brendon made sure to correct all the grammar in his text, as he didn't want to come off as uneducated, and considered sending a smiley, but decided against it, because it would probably make him look like a 12-year-old and he most definitely didn't want that. Hopefully he didn't come off as too eager to meet with Ryan, because it sort of looked like that to him. Brendon sighed and put his phone down on his coffee table, anxiously awaiting Ryan's reply

-

Brendon made himself some pasta out of leftovers which did not look very appetising at all. He sat on the couch and turned the TV on, some boring reality TV show playing. He didn't focus on it, instead he focused on his phone, wondering when Ryan would reply. Hopefully soon. Brendon wasn't the type of person who liked waiting. He pushed the positively disgusting pasta around the plate, hardly eating one bite.  
Brendon texted his Mom and told her that he couldn't phone her that night (mainly because he was waiting for a reply from Ryan and didn't want to be in the middle of a long conversation about the weather or his work with his mother when Ryan did reply) and he also texted Spencer telling him that he'd left his jacket at Brendon's house, which Spencer promptly replied to saying that he'd be over the next evening to pick it up. Brendon eventually discarded his uneaten meal into the bin and washed his work polo shirt (which he only had one of, he made a mental note to get another one) and sighed as he looked at his misspelt badge (that was higher on Brendon's mental list of things to at work, because if one more person called him Brenden, he would punch them in the face. Seriously.) Brendon then preceded to try and clean his house, but ultimately failed. He then sorted out some stuff Dallon had left behind; as Brendon did not want anything that idiot had owned so he threw Dallon's stuff out, straight in the trash can, as simple as that.  
Brendon then checked Facebook, nothing new, just his old school friends talking about their boring lives (not that Brendon's was at all exciting, in fact it was probably worse than theirs) and people's pet pictures. Brendon then wondered if Ryan Ross had a twitter or instagram; which he did (and 10,000 followers on both, damn him, Brendon had around 15, not that he was counting). Brendon then proceeded to stalk Ryan for the better part of an hour. When Brendon had scrolled through most of Ryan's posts he saw a picture of the Young Veins' album, which reminded him he'd borrowed it from work that day. Brendon went over to his jacket which lay limply on the back of a chair and removed the album, putting the CD into his old CD player.  
The music filled the room and Brendon felt instantly relieved. He sat down on the couch and listened to every song thoroughly, Ryan's melodic voice filling his ears.  
Once the album was finished, Brendon put on some crappy late night TV for half an hour, before noticing it was just past eleven. He had to get to bed now, so he didn't oversleep again and make himself late for work.  
Brendon headed into his bedroom and got changed into his pyjamas and brushed his teeth. He checked his phone one last time, no word from Ryan. He probably wasn't going to reply. Brendon sighed and got into bed, switching his lamp off.  
"Beeeeeeeep"  
"Ughhhhh," Brendon groaned. It had only been 15 minutes since he'd got into bed and was just falling asleep before he heard the loud noise coming from his phone.  
He rolled over and reached for it. If it was Spencer, he would kill him for waking him up on a work night.  
Brendon switched his phone on and checked his texts.  
It wasn't Spencer... It was Ryan.  
'Hi Brendon sorry I couldn't reply to your text earlier, I was practising some songs for a gig I'm doing on Friday. I'm alright, thanks. Saturday is fine for me. 12 at Daisy's?'  
Brendon took a deep breath before typing a reply.  
'Sure tjats fine for saturday. see u there' he was too tired to check his spelling so he just sent it there, falling back into bed, thinking about Ryan.  
Oh god. Was he actually meeting up with Ryan on Saturday? It seemed so...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU FOR ALL YOUR COMMENTS!!!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed chapter 3!
> 
> Please comment/kudos! I really really appreciate your support ^_^
> 
> And PS: the typos in Brendon's text were intentional; I did edit this!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter four  
The rest of the week passed by quickly. Brendon was nervously excited for Saturday (nervcited?); when he was meeting up with Ryan.  
His work had been tedious, the same old CD stacking and counter duty that drove him out of his mind with boredom.  
He and Ryan had been texting quite regularly, and Brendon enjoyed it. He was slowly getting to know Ryan more and more each day. He learned he had two cats which he loved dearly and was also eager to start a new band but needed members.  
Brendon no longer froze and walked into lampposts when Ryan texted him, so that was a plus.  
It was Friday - exactly 24 hours until Brendon met with Ryan (not that he was counting; he most definitely wasn’t), which scared him slightly. Would it go well? Would Ryan hate him? All these thoughts raced around in Brendon's head.  
'No,' Brendon thought, 'Ryan won't hate me. If he hates me then why would he be so friendly to me, text me regularly and arrange to meet up in the first place? You’re being paranoid.'  
Maybe he pities you, said a voice in the back of his head.   
'No!' Brendon thought. 'It'll go fine,' he told himself, although unsure.   
Brendon was putting some guitar tuners on a shelf, which was pretty boring work. He'd bought a new alarm clock on Wednesday, though, which now made sure he wouldn't be late for work again... hopefully.  
Brendon's phone buzzed. He pulled it out, hoping was Ryan - but no; it was Spencer.  
'hey brendon, theres a party on 2nite with live music do u wanna come with me?? its at 7'  
Brendon thought for a moment. He wasn't doing anything that night so he supposed he could go.  
'sure, i'll come 2 ur house at 6:45 and we'll walk there???' Brendon replied to Spencer.  
"Who's that you're texting?" Patrick asked from beside him.  
"Oh, just my friend Spencer," Brendon replied, putting his phone back into his pocket. "He's asking me to come to some party with him tonight. Says there's music."  
"Oh," Patrick said. "I think I'm going to a party tonight. It's more of a concert though. Pete Wentz's band is playing there."  
Brendon nodded. He wondered if it was the same party they were going to. Probably not, there were a lot of parties in this city on a Friday night.  
"Cool," Brendon muttered, placing another tuner on the shelf.

-

At 6:45 Brendon headed down to Spencer's house, which wasn't much far from his. The rest of the day had been boring as usual, Brendon had been shouted at by his manager for "charging the wrong price" for a CD or something, he couldn't really remember, his memory was hazy.  
Brendon reached Spencer's house, only to see him standing on his front step, smiling at him.  
“Hey,” Spencer said. "You ready to go?"  
"Yeah!" Brendon replied.  
"Okay," Spencer said, as he locked his front door. "Let's move then."  
"So, what's happening at this party then?" Brendon inquired, trying to make conversation.  
"Well, I said 'party'... what I mean was 'concert with added party'," Spencer said.  
"Oh, okay," Brendon murmured. "So who's playing?"  
"Pete Wentz's band are the main act, there's some other smaller bands and artists playing as well though," Spencer replied.  
"Oh, cool," Brendon said. So this was the same party Patrick was going to. He supposed it would be good that there was going to be someone else he knew there.   
They walked the rest of the way in silence, before they arrived at the place; a largish bar/cafe with all the chairs and tables removed; so it was a big open space, with a stage assembled at one end of the room.  
Brendon and Spencer entered the party, taking it all in. There were various people milling around talking, and a young woman was on stage playing an acoustic guitar and singing. Brendon couldn't see anyone he recognised though. No sign of Patrick.   
"I'll go and get us some drinks," Spencer told him.  
"Okay," Brendon said, still looking around. Spencer disappeared off to the bar and he was left standing there slightly awkwardly on his own. He listened to the music and watched people mill around. They laughed and conversed happily, some people dancing, some just stood talking. It wasn't long until Brendon would see Ryan. He made a mental note not to stay too late so he wasn't half dead when he saw him.  
"Brendon! You’re here?" a voice said. Brendon spun around. There stood Patrick, looking fairly awkward in the mass of people. Much like he was.  
"Oh, hey, Patrick," Brendon said, smiling at his work colleague.  
"There's a lot of people here. It'll be great when Pete's band comes on. I hope can meet them," Patrick said, trying to start a conversation.  
"Yeah," Brendon replied, making eye contact with Patrick. "That'd be cool."  
"Hey!" Spencer said, returning with his and Brendon's drinks. He handed Brendon his beer.  
"Thanks," he muttered.  
"Who's this?" Spencer asked, motioning to the newcomer.  
"Oh, this is my co-worker, Patrick," Brendon said. "Patrick, this is my good friend Spencer."  
"Hi," Patrick said nervously, smiling slightly.  
"Hey!" Spencer said cheerfully.  
Brendon took a sip of his drink. He was only going to have one, since he definitely didn't want to be hungover when he met up with Ryan.  
The woman with the guitar finished playing and said a quick thank you and the host introduced the next act.  
They came on stage and were... let’s just say... interesting.  
There were two of them, a woman and a man, they wore tie-dye pyjamas and the woman held a flute and the man held a tambourine.  
"WE ARE RAINBOW FLIGHT! THIS IS 'ANGEL SONG'!" The man introduced.  
They began to play a cacophony of noise, which kind of hurt Brendon's ears.  
The next while passed pretty quickly, the borderline unbearable "Rainbow Flight" music didn't last that long thank god, and there were a few considerably better acts on after.  
Brendon was too busy talking to Spencer and Patrick to really notice the music anyway.  
Soon it was time for Pete Wentz's band to come on, Patrick's ears pricked up when he heard the name and he turned to face the stage, making his way to the front of the mass of people..  
There was four of them, but Brendon could easily tell the the bassist was Pete Wentz, thanks to the pictures Patrick had shown him when they were on their break a few days previously. He looked around Patrick's height - maybe a couple of inches and had black hair and wore skinny jeans and a band t-shirt Brendon didn’t recognise.   
They introduced themselves and began their set, Patrick keeping his eyes fixated on Pete Wentz the entire time.  
It didn't last that long; maybe 20 minutes or so, but it was still the longest set of the night. They were soon announcing their last song.  
"Thanks for coming tonight guys," Pete Wentz said. "None of you probably know this, but this is our last performance together, as we've decided to go our separate ways. Your support means the world! Thanks again, this is our last song!"  
They began to play, and Brendon looked over to Patrick, who looked quite disappointed. They were his favourite band, after all.   
Brendon listened to the music, and let it course through his veins.  
Once the song was over, they said goodbye and headed off the stage.  
Patrick tugged Brendon's sleeve. "Come on, if we go over now we could get an autograph," he said.  
"Alright," Brendon said, and he and Spencer followed Patrick over to the stage.  
Pete was standing below the stage, putting his bass in a case.  
He shut the case and turned to look at them.  
"Hey," Pete said, smiling at them.  
"Uh, hi..." Patrick said, shyly. "Uuuh, great set tonight."  
"Thanks," Pete replied.  
"It sucks that you're breaking up though, you were my favourite band," Patrick said.  
"Yeah, well, it wasn't my choice. The others wanted to go their separate ways, and well, I couldn't argue, so we split up," Pete said.  
"Oh," Patrick said. "Could I.... uh... get your autograph please?" Brendon swore he saw Patrick blushing, but then again, maybe it was just the lighting.  
"Sure," Pete said, taking a pen out his pocket.  
Patrick handed him a CD.  
Pete scrawled his name across the front and handed it back to Patrick.  
Patrick looked at it in awe and hastily said, "Thank you so much, Pete."  
"No problem, dude," Pete said. "I gotta go now, but what's your name?"  
"I'm... uh... Patrick. These are my friends Brendon and Spencer," he replied.  
"Hey," Brendon and Spencer both said.  
"Okay, bye Patrick, bye Brendon, bye Spencer."  
"Bye..." Patrick said, stunned.  
Brendon and Spencer waved to Pete, before the host announced the last act.  
"Now this is totally unexpected," the host said "We just found out about this last minute, but please welcome to the stage, Ryan Ross!"  
WHAT?  
Out stepped Ryan, holding his guitar (the very one Brendon had sold to him) and smiling nervously.  
Well that was unexpected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AGHHHHH, sorry it took so long.
> 
> Been so busy the past month or so that I completely forgot about this fic.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Don't forget to comment and/or leave kudos. It's much appreciated ^_^


	5. chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHH I'm sorry there's not been any updates for months! I've been really busy and forgotten to update! But here's chapter 5! :D
> 
> (and also, if you're confused - i moved this fic over to my new account, as it's easier that way!)
> 
> hope you enjoy the chapter!! 
> 
> xoxo

Chapter five  
Ryan made eye contact with Brendon just as he sat down and adjusted his microphone. Brendon nodded to Ryan and smiled weakly at him. Ryan unexpectedly returned his smile, seeming to lose some of his nervousness, or maybe that was just Brendon's head playing tricks on him. Surely Ryan wouldn't be reassured by his presence.  
Brendon kept his eyes trained on him, hopefully this wouldn't make their meeting the next day awkward or uncomfortable.  
"Uh, hi," Ryan said, looking out into the mass of people, who cheered. "Uh, this is the first time that I'm doing this without my band members, so, uh, wish me luck. This is 'Cape Town'."  
Ryan wasn't the sort of person that Brendon would expect to be nervous on stage, with his calm and cool demeanour, but maybe he shouldn't judge a book by its cover.  
Ryan began to strum the guitar, and then started singing. His sweet, melodic voice filled the room, and Brendon couldn't help but feel calmer.  
That had been one of his favourites off the album when he'd listened to it on Tuesday night, and the fact it was live just made it even better.  
Ryan finished the song and then played through two more songs; 'Take a vacation' and 'Change'.  
Brendon felt himself feel lighter, as if all his troubles had melted away. Ryan's voice did something to him. It was like a powerful, dangerous drug.  
Ryan finished the song' and the audience cheered; Brendon’s eyes didn’t stray away from him for a second.  
"So, uh, I'm going to play a new song that I haven't played before, so you're all lucky," Ryan gave a short laugh, "But I'm going to need some help for this one," Ryan's eyes drifted over to Brendon.  
Brendon’s eyes widened vastly.  
'No, no, this can't be happening,' he thought. 'He can't be asking me to come up on stage.'  
Ryan pointed, most definitely, at him. "Brendon, why don't you come up and sing with me? I know you have good voice," he said, a hopeful expression on his face. Brendon's knees turned to jelly, and his mind drifted back to the first time he met Ryan, when he'd been singing to himself and Ryan had told him he liked his voice.  
Don't say yes, Brendon's mind urged.  
Say no.  
"Uh, okay," Brendon said, without thinking. Goddamn it.   
Ryan’s expression changed, and he began to smile. "Come on up then," he said, waving his hand.  
Brendon nodded slowly, trying to focus on something other than the fact his knees were shaking and his palms dripping in sweat. He stepped up the two small steps onto the stage and someone brought an extra chair up and handed Brendon a microphone.  
"I get super nervous on stage. I don't know if I can do this," he whispered.  
"Of course you can," Ryan whispered back. "I do too. Just try and forget the people watching you and focus on your singing. Get lost in the music; and remember, I'm right here beside you."  
Brendon nodded. "Okay, I'll give it a go."  
Ryan gave Brendon a reassuring smile. He gave him a piece of paper with the lyrics of the song they were going to be playing. "Just sing along to my guitar playing. And remember, I'll be singing with you for the chorus," he said.  
Brendon nodded, returning Ryan's smile.  
"This song's called Northern Downpour!" Ryan said into the microphone.  
He began to play the guitar and nodded to Brendon, which was his queue to start singing.  
"If all our life is but a dream," Brendon began shakily, slightly off key. He looked out into the crowd, and saw Spencer and Patrick looking at him in awe. "Fantastic posing greed," Brendon began to slowly gain confidence. "Then we should feed our jewellery to the sea. For diamonds do appear to be, just like broken glass to me."  
Brendon looked over to Ryan. He gave him another reassuring smile as he strummed his guitar.  
"And then she said she can't believe, genius only comes along in storms of fabled foreign tongues," the crowd started waving their arms in the air. Brendon felt most of his nervousness fade away, replaced by confidence and adrenaline. "Tripping eyes and flooding lungs."  
Ryan joined in with Brendon's singing. "Northern downpour sends its love."  
"Hey moon, please forget to fall down, hey moon don't you go down," they sang in harmony, their voices complementing each other's’ greatly.  
"Sugar cane in the easy mornin’, weathervanes my one and lonely," Ryan sang, melodiously. Brendon couldn’t quite believe that this was actually happening. It felt as if it was a dream.  
They sang the rest of the song, and it went well, well as well as it could go, seeing as Brendon had never heard the song, let alone sung it.   
The crowd didn't appear to mind though, in fact, they seemed to love it.  
"Hey moon, please forget to fall down, hey moon don't you go down, you are at the top of my lungs, drawn to the ones who never yawn, ones who never yawn..." they finished. Everyone cheered, and Brendon felt a deep sense of accomplishment.  
Ryan patted Brendon on the shoulder. "You did well," he said. "You really are an amazing singer."  
Brendon grinned. "Thanks," he said. "But I'm not a professional singer like you, I probably sucked and you're just making me feel better."  
"Brendon, I'm serious. You could world famous, with a voice like that," Ryan said.  
Brendon blushed, "Uh... thank you," he was at a loss for words. Great. He’d just embarrassed himself in front of Ryan Ross.  
Ryan smiled and put his guitar into his case. "Thank you! Have a good night!" he said, into the the mic. The audience cheered and Ryan disappeared off stage without another word.  
Brendon awkwardly walked down the stairs off the stage and was greeted by an awestruck Patrick and a smiling Spencer.  
"I can't believe you got a chance to sing with Ryan Ross," Patrick said.  
"Uh, yeah. It was unexpected," Brendon said.  
"I never knew you could sing like that," Spencer marvelled. "You were amazing."  
“Thanks. I kept going off key, though nobody’s seemed to notice,” Brendon said, rubbing the back of his neck.  
"It doesn’t matter. You killed it,” Spencer smiled.  
"Brendon," someone said from behind him. “Sorry, I had to go put my guitar away.”  
"Oh my god," Patrick exclaimed.   
Brendon spun around, to see Ryan standing, hands in his pockets.  
"Hey, " Brendon said coolly. "This is my friend Patrick," Brendon pointed to the awestruck man; who mumbled a hi to Ryan, "and I guess you already know Spencer."  
"Spencer," he acknowledged, nodding to him.  
"Ryan," Spencer replied stonily.   
"You know Spencer?" Patrick asked, bewildered.  
"Yeah," Ryan said monotonously. "We were friends in school."  
"Oh," Patrick mumbled, looking at his shoes..  
Brendon coughed loudly. “Well, we better be going, Spencer."  
"Yeah," Spencer answered, not looking at Brendon; instead he was staring at Ryan with hostility.  
"Me too," Patrick said quickly. "It was nice meeting you, Ryan." He turned around.  
"Goodbye," Spencer said flatly.  
"Bye, Ryan, see you tomorrow," Brendon said brightly.  
"Bye, Brendon!" Ryan said cheerily, which was strangely unlike him.  
"Oh, and one last thing, could I maybe, possibly get your autograph, please?" Patrick said in an unsure voice, pulling out his copy of the Young Veins CD.  
"Yeah, of course," Ryan said. He took out a pen and scrawled a signature across the case.  
Patrick hastily muttered a thanks and turned to leave.  
"It was really great seeing you tonight," Ryan said as he moved away from the group.  
"Uh, yeah you too," Brendon called after him.  
He hurried after Spencer and Patrick, who were already close to the door. They went outside, into the cool evening air and Patrick parted ways with the two others, clutching his two signed CDs.  
Spencer gave Brendon a expectant look once Patrick was out of sight.  
"What?" Brendon asked defensively.  
"You're seeing Ryan Ross tomorrow?" Spencer inquired, eyebrows raised.  
"Yes," Brendon replied. "For some coffee. We met again on Monday and I gave him my number, and we've been texting since."  
"Oh," Spencer said. He sighed. "Can you promise me something Brendon?"  
Brendon looked at him, the dull yellow of the street light illuminating his friend's face. "Sure."  
"Can you promise not to mess up yours and Ryan's friendship? Like I did. I still feel bad about it, and I know he'll never take me back as his friend," Spencer said.   
"Of course," Brendon said. "And I'll talk to Ryan about it tomorrow, I promise."  
"Thanks, Brendon, but you don't need to fix my friendship. Really. It isn’t your problem."  
Brendon rolled his eyes. "Of course I do, I’m your friend!”  
Spencer laughed. “Okay, then.”   
Brendon hoped he could fix their friendship. He’d seen how cold the two of them had been to each other, and discovering how Spencer felt, he could only hope Ryan felt the same way.   
The two walked home together, though not passing another word between them except for a goodnight when they reached Spencer’s house.  
Brendon walked the rest of the way to his house alone. Tomorrow he was seeing Ryan again. Tomorrow he had the chance to fix Ryan and Spencer’s friendship. It was looking to be a hopeful day.


End file.
